Leetl Boy
by bjshaw
Summary: Harry, the 'leetle boy' is waiting in the tent before facing a dragon. This is a one shot of his encounter with Fleur as she sees his commitment to someone else, before facing his destiny. HP/HG. (something left on the 'puter)
1. Leetl Boy

Harry waited in the tent as the real champions stood nearly together while he watched. It was clear he was too young and inexperienced to be involved in this tournament. 'Cedric is just being nice, as if I am a child. Viktor just grunts and scowls at him, and Fleur refuses to notice any male not trying to curry her favor, and then only to sneer at them."

He noticed Hermione come to the edge of the tent and heard her voice.

"Harry!"

"Hermione?" he was surprised. I mean this was against the rules. She simply slipped between the two walls and jumped into him with a fierce hug. He hugged her back firmly, rubbing her back after a bit and enjoying the sensation more than a friend would. She pulled back some but he stopped her just before she was completely out of his arms.

"Now if we only had music to dance to," he whispered so she could just hear it.

"Come back to me," she almost growled back in his ear, "and I will keep my dance card free."

A warm wind suddenly went through the tent, causing the front flap to open. Only Fleur noticed anything and she now had a look of deep concentration, her body still shuddering at the power of that outburst. She had never seen the magical reaction she had just witnessed before, but it was a powerful relationship. She had only noticed due to her heritage which registered automatically all 'adult' behavior in her vicinity.

As she turned to look at the author of that sudden burst of magical energy, she shook at the strength in it she could still feel. It was clearly double what had been there only moments ago. Completely forgetting about the dragon for a moment she locked down her Veela heritage with all her might. It would be disastrous to lose control in this tent at this moment.

Fortunately they were interrupted by the headmaster and those running the tournament. She went through the motions of surprise, listening to the instructions, and drawing a dragon from the bag. Harry drew the final one.

"Hungarian Horntail," he shrugged. "Sir," he managed to get everyone's attention. "Is there a penalty for killing the dragon?"

"Do not treat this as a joke, young man," the ministry official growled.

"That's rude, Harry," Cedric added as Viktor just scowled. The only one in the room that was actually watching Harry's face when he said it spoke up.

"Vell," Fleur turned on the official, "vat is the anwer?" As no man could ignore her attention he finally grunted.

"Damage or death to the dragon does not penalize the champion, they are just beasts." With that out of the way the officials left in a huff.

After Harry and Fleur were the only ones left in the tent, Fleur walked right up to him.

"'arry, cest 'ermione amor? Oui?" She hadn't even realized that she spoke no English to the young man, as she now thought of him.

"Mon dieu," he said more to himself than to her, "Ceres oui." All of a sudden he realized that she was in his personal space and he could sense not only her physical self, but her magic and mind as well, as if she was trying to merge with him. Her thoughts were so open and close that he had command of her language.

He deliberately clamped down on himself, "Stop that!" he ordered, not moving but clearly meaning it.

She lept back. She had moved into seduction posture without even realizing it. Her abilities were pushed to their limits trying to get the attention of this powerful man in front of her. His magical aura must be significantly more powerful that hers, luring the susceptible Veela within the girl like a drug. She frowned and withdrew as fully as she could, knowing that if she couldn't pull herself together in a few minutes she would go out there and die facing the dragon. All she could see were surprisingly warm green eyes boring into her very center. She sat in the dirt. She had almost lost everything and all she could think about was what that lure of magic she had felt like.

Harry came over somehow sensing what had been done to her.

"Fleur," he said gently. He gave her his hand and raised her from the floor of the tent when she didn't even remember sitting down. "Go out and charm your dragon. We will not speak of this again unless you wish it." His face was serene as he looked into her eyes and she could sense the sincerity and encouragement of his words.

She smiled weakly and tried to compose herself and stepped away to the edge of the tent. Her confidence was severely shaken.

"Fleur, you can channel your magic and emotions into the task. Use your passionate heritage to overcome this obstacle like all the ones you have overcome to get into this tournament. You were chosen as a real champion," he sounded suave like a man double his age, "now go prove to them they were right about that choice."

She straightened and felt a wash of determination. Not sure if it came from him or herself; then she realized she didn't care. She smiled at him, but this time it was genuine. When the go signal sounded she almost marched out to meet her dragon, wondering where the young man who had encouraged her had come from compared to the boy she had thought she had seen earlier.

A short time later, Harry Potter walked into the arena where he had to face a dragon. He was still feeling the warm hug from Hermione. For some reason it didn't seem to be the same as those he had received before. His encounter with Fleur didn't even register in his memory as he thought about his favorite girl before suddenly looking at the death represented by claws, fangs, wings, and fire.


	2. Leetl Dragon

Title: **Leetl Dragon**  
Excerpt from Leetl Boy

_Harry Potter walked into the arena where he had to face a dragon. He was still feeling the warm hug from Hermione. For some reason it didn't seem to be the same as those he had received before. His encounter with Fleur didn't even register in his memory as he thought about his favorite girl before suddenly looking at the death represented by claws, fangs, wings, and fire._

Hermione looked down at Harry as he walked out to face what was undoubtedly the worst of the four dragons. He looked so small as he walked out, shoulders slightly down and head forward. To others this would look like a sign of defeat, but Hermione thought differently.

She heard Lavendar Brown, just behind her, cursing and lamenting that Harry was going to die and she wouldn't even get a chance with him. This led Hermione's thoughts in another direction for a moment before she smiled again. She would just have to make sure Harry knew her intentions. Her mother had told her that most relationships were started when a girl/woman showed interest and the boy/man responded by pursuit. She would just have to give the signal she was interested in being the focus of his affections. Perhaps, if he was a quick study, he had already gotten that message with her less than platonic hug a few minutes ago. Jerking her thoughts back to the clear and present danger to her friend, Hermione scowled as he raised his wand and didn't say a word.

Harry's first plan was fairly simple, see if he could draw the dragon away from the eggs by using his ability to be annoying, something at which he was quite good or so many believed. He had been so vilified by the rest of the school since his name had been announced that he made one other decision. No more nice Harry, at least where dangerous situations were concerned. He had to dive behind a rock to keep from being roasted alive and he took this time to cast a horrendously overpowered flame freeze charm Hermione had found in the library a week ago, followed by a limited silencing spell that would be good for shooting a skeet gun. He concentrated on a very small area so he did not give anything away to the crowd and was rewarded by temperatures of no more than 40 degrees. His internal smile was as bright as the sun as he stood and waved his wand with a flourish at his firebolt silently incanting the summoning charm.

After more jeers from the crowd, among them were some from his 'friends,' there was a whoosh and the broom sped across the distance into his waiting hands. He took a moment to untie the small package attached to it, hoping he would not need it. A moment later he was in the air and in the element he truly loved. He ran through a quick 'shake down' of his broom not wanting to take a chance, although it appeared he was taunting the dragon and it was ignoring him. He had done some research and knew to within a few meters how close he could get before any dragon would consider him a possible threat.

Finally turning to his assigned dragon he made a few 70% speed swoops at it, coming within ten meters each time. The very loud reaction from the horntail shocked the stands into almost complete quiet. This was no longer fun and games as their ears hurt just from its angered roar. When a dragon breathes fire its natural roar is muffled by the fire generating process but when Harry's dragon let out a roar of frustration at not being able to catch him, the noise was almost deafening. Harry had only been working on his task for three minutes when he realized that the mother dragon was never leaving her nest more than a few meters, well within range of that spiked tail. With an internal sigh he turned his broom.

Harry's next pass he came almost straight at the beast. Suddenly the crowd gasped at seeing his direct flight path, so different from the elusive pattern they had seen moments before. As the expected fire came, he pulled his wand and the entire crowd froze as he seemed to cast a spell and disappeared into the fire.

The dragon's roar was the only sound for just an instant then the entire stadium heard a cry so agonizing that tears immediately sprouted in most eyes, even those who cared not if the boy died.

"Harry," Hermoine's shriek overpowered even the fierce creature's sound then suddenly it was deathly quiet as the dragon stopped roaring and flaming. A small figure appeared a dozen meters away from the dragon's nest hovering in perfect stillness on his broom with a golden egg tucked under one arm. He watched the dragon collapse as if its bones were removed making a heavy 'thud.' Harry quickly dismounted next to the champion's entrance and turned to walk away when the crowd roared to life.

Hearing the loud noise he turned back to wave at Hermione and saw her disappear into a sea of thrashing bodies. Suddenly he grew cold as he sensed something wrong with his favorite girl. Not even recognizing what he was doing he snatched up his broom and was rocketing directly at the spot where she had disappeared in the mess. He cast a strong shield spell as he approached the barrier, not even sure he could get through it. As the shields met there was a thunderclap of magic and suddenly Harry was there and stepped off his broom into the stands. Everyone froze for a few moments as he bent down and pulled Hermione up from under one of the benches.

Harry pulled her head to his chest and was about to remount his broom when he felt something warm and sticky on his hand. Looking down unbelievingly at her blood he turned a fierce gaze at the crowd. To a man they flinched and he saw fear on everyone's face except one. He turned to the one who had an expression of guilt that they had not protected Hermione better, and handed him the golden egg.

"Mr. Longbottom, would you hold this for me for a bit?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Potter, sorry about Hermione getting hurt," Harry felt the affection and sincerity clearly and nodded quietly.

"It's always Harry for you, Neville," he answered casually. From that day, Neville Longbottom shot right to the top in social status for Hogwarts and soon Britain.

Harry gently tucked Hermione in close and flew back to the tent where he knew the school nurse would be.

Two aurors who were assigned the safety of the champions after the task were in his way as he tried to enter.

"Pardon," Harry said quietly, carrying Hermione bridal style. His intent to carry her in was clear.

"This tent is only for champions." Harry glared at the man and just ignored him, pushing past and in to see Madam Pomfrey.

"Mister Potter!" the nurse exclaimed, "are you inju…" seeing his expression she stopped speaking and just let him lie the girl down on the bed. A quick spell later she finally talked to the distraught wizard.

"She has a mild bruise and small cut on her head. There is no concussion." She had healed the cut and cast a mild cleaning charm to remove the blood when Hermione suddenly woke up.

"Oh God, Harry," she flung herself at him, patting him down to ensure her hands what her eyes were seeing, that he was alright. She completely ignored the sheen of sweat that was drying on his body, not caring in the least at the moment.

"I am great, Hermione," his grin told her more than his words.

"What happened? Oh, I was knocked down by …" seeing the expression on his face she suddenly changed her intended words, "the crowd jumping and celebrating. I should have been more careful." Her downcast expression made it clear she did not want to continue this topic of discussion.

Harry decided if she did not want to name drop he would not push the subject.

"You may be leave when you are ready, Miss Granger," the nurse pronounced, to the joy of the two Gryffindors.

"Harry, are you okay?" Cedric had been completely ignored until now. They looked over to see his handsome face partially covered with burn salve and his eyebrows missing.

"Fine, you?" Harry remembered that the popular Hufflepuff had been at least civil even though he had not made any effort to help curtail the persecution Harry had been undergoing. Harry had kept his tone even.

"Been better, but we made it, right? Not many can say they have faced a dragon and lived. Uh… what happened with you?" Harry saw the smug look on Viktor's and Cedric's faces that he had not come in with the egg. He chose not to answer the Hufflepuffs' question. Fleur's expression was surprisingly neutral.

"Will the champions please present themselves to receive their scores?" the loud announcement made Hermione wince and Harry realized he still had the dampening spell on his hearing. Anything over a certain level was muted down the 75 decibels, still loud but not quite painful.

As they all made their way to the 'champion viewing area,' Harry gave Hermione another quick hug and let her hang back.

"Ah yes, shall we go in parade?" Harry's sarcasm was partly the adrenaline leaving his system, partly his disgust at being a show piece for the Ministry for Magic. He did not smile as he stepped into the light.


End file.
